


Aunt May’s First Meeting with a World Wanted Felon

by WeOffendedShadows



Series: Aunt May's Wayward Home for Struggling and Weird Superheros & Associates who Fail at Adulting [2]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: A brief meeting, Broken Mind, Helpful Aunt May, Homelessness, May Parker is nicer than Peter Parker, Vague Mention of Torture, and you can fight me for that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 16:02:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14358846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeOffendedShadows/pseuds/WeOffendedShadows
Summary: (Or: How Bucky Barnes finds the one person on the world more kind than Peter Parker)May should know better better, but sometimes, she just needs to help.Even when that person is a hobo with shoulders broader than a building and hair that could be amazing, except for the wood and metal and - is that a tooth?[BeforeRewrite the Stars]





	Aunt May’s First Meeting with a World Wanted Felon

May Parker had always viewed herself as reasonable and sensible. It was almost a requirement for raising an orphan boy with the energy of fifteen battery bunnies from the television and intelligence that scared her sometimes. 

[Not Ben. Peter, and every wonderfully messy thing about him, reminded her husband, just worse. It was why he was so taken and proud to be a parent, even if just an uncle. 

(He would have been proud to see Peter nowadays. Was proud.)]

She was a nurse in a trauma ward for a city that had more villains, super and not, than most countries could claim. She was specialized and practiced in emergency care and first aid, from class and experience. May survived the Alien Invasion on New York, numerous Hulk mishaps, Iron man accidents, Avengers mismanagement, and the local stupidity of vigilantes, which there seemed to be more and more of them in the papers every day. 

[Did Peter really believe she had no idea about him and his extracurricular activities? Really? The woman who raised him from six to sixteen? Her boy was so dense sometimes, she’d be more worried if he didn’t bounce back so easily from his injuries] 

The whole insanity that was New York had also taught her vigilance. Living in a big city, one as vibrant and wild as New York, with a variety that boarded insanity, granted an education unlike anywhere else. 

May Parker knew all of this, and yet, she still stopped in front of the homeless man in the massive rain poncho on the side of the apartment building near her bus stop. He was massive in comparison to other homeless in the area, or the city for that matter; a set of broad shoulders that, if were on someone who wasn’t covered in mud and grim, would be considered solid and well built. His hair, Lord almighty, his hair was a mess. Bits and pieces stuck to it, including what looked like shards of metal, some twigs and such, a lot of garbage, and – was that a tooth?

She had seen him sitting outside a few times walking to her bus stop late at night. Just sitting there, his knees close to his chest and his head down, hiding. 

He looked different than most of the homeless people she saw; those who she tried to direct and assist when she could, who’d let her assist them. He looked, for lack of a better term, lonely. 

“Hey,” she said. He didn’t look up.

May stood a good ten feet away, out of grabbing distance, but kept her voice as soft and peaceful as she could. 

“You okay?” she continued. “Obviously not, I mean you’re out here and everything, but what I meant was, is there anything you need? I have a bag here that might help.” May dug around in her duffle bag, pushing around the dirty cloths and crocs to find the supply kit she carried around. 

“It wouldn’t be much,” May added, her smile turning upside down as he continued to keep his face in his knees. 

She held the bag out to him, a kit she filled with some basic essentials and other odds and ends she felt could lift the spirit. But he didn’t move a muscle. May wasn’t even sure he was breathing. 

“okay.” She leaned forward slightly and tossed the bag a foot or so in front of him as gently as she could. “Okay. Well, there’s an address in there if you want, a number too with disposable cell. Not that you have to use it. Or take it. But they’ve got some showers and a hot shower always did a body good, at least that’s what my Ben used to say back when he was, you know, alive, not that you’d know but, it’s a saying, you know, and well, I guess I should leave you to your silent mopey self, but I truly hope you at least think about and take the bag.”

May rubbed the back of her neck as her words spilled from her mouth. She felt her face heat up, and her mouth dry, and she had a hard time standing still. Her body wanted to run away. But May remained there, ten feet away from the massive, dirty hobo with hair that had seen better days. 

Ten seconds. A minute. Three.

She didn’t relax until he stretched out a leg and pulled the bag in closer to him, just under his foot. May exhaled, and fought back a clap of joy. “You take care of yourself, you hear me? The world is full of horrible people, and, um, I think that maybe, despite or in spite of whatever you’ve been through, you deserve better. Everyone does. Have a better day, sir, and please, think about the shelter. They’d be more than happy to help.”

May turned around and continued her walk to her bus stop. 

The next day, she didn’t see the man in the alley, sitting with his legs pulled up and his head on his knees. 

&*&*&*&*&*&

Objective 1: stop assailants aboard the helicarriers. Outcome: failure. Objective 2: kill man in blue-red-white uniform. Outcome: failure. Mission: designated failed. Seek cell and await new orders. Cell located, primary destination. Cell rejected. Cell located, secondary destination. Cell rejected. Cell located, tertiary-

 **Flames. Flames all around as the world fell, a washed out and hazy of black and whites. Metal snapped and cracked under strain, and fell into the abyss far, far below. And a single voice cut through the static snap of electricity. “Then finish it. Because I’m with you until the end of the line.”**

\- Await contact. Establish signals. Establish…Establish…Establish LZ. Await contact. Signals established in order previously designated Alpha-Six-One-Niner-Niner-Gamma-Mu, in accordance to Urban Tactics Upload procedure –

**The roof collapsed and rubble fell; a carefully built sign disappeared from sight, not that it was needed, though there was a purpose. In both the sign carved onto the brick and the erasing of it.**

\- Beta-Two-Two-Niner. LZ constructed in accordance to Urban Tactics Upload procedure Kappa-Alpha-One-Three. LZ compromised: local law enforcement officers identified and forced out. Outcome: fled without contact. Violence unacceptable via Urban Tactics – 

**Huffing and puffing, trash cans knocked over in the haze of black-white, electric static covering those who shined a beam of harsh light through the wall. Alley after alley, all the same, until they were not.**

\- Upload procedure Mu-Mu-Nu-Eight-Eight-S—

**Raunchy laughter and crude language filled the static electricity humming around. Three white men, no boys no order than eighteen, walking together, stumbling into each other. One holds a metal pipe, another held his pants up at the waist, constantly touching just above his belt near front right pocket. Three in front of others, loudest and crudest.**

****

****

**The words they say are unknown, but intent is obvious. They follow someone; seeking them, no, stalking.**

**One step, then second, and third. The three boys are close, foot away. In movement graceful as an automated assembly arm, gun removed from pants and spun around. Butt of gun collides with Metal Pipe, goes down in a huff of air and blood. Tallest turn to face. Tallest angry. Tallest –**

\- Error… Error…. Error… Asset caught in loop. Reset Asset in three…two…one… 

Objective 1: await orders. Received; Orders. Objective 1: -

_Somewhere, through the static of it all, through the haze of white, it heard the softest voice it had heard. No, not softest, a part of it thought that was bundled up and hidden away in the deepest parts of the white and electricity, gentlest. But a voice that was so similar to one from so very, very long ago._

__

__

“Hey.” 

_It didn’t look up, or move for that matter._

_“You okay?” A sigh of uncertainty from her voice. “Obviously not, I mean you’re out here and everything, but what I meant was, is there anything you need? I have a bag here that might help. ___

____

____

_Rustling within a duffle bag, filled with dirty cloths and crocs from work, along with a variety of feminine and personal products, including a well-worn book and a bag, flatten and filled. It didn’t need to hear more._

_“It wouldn’t be much.” A pause. A breathe. “Okay, well, there’s an address in there if you want, a number too with disposable cell. Not that you have to use it. Or take it But they’ve got some showers and a hot shower always did a body good, at least that’s what my Ben used to say back when he was, you know, alive, not that you’d know but, it’s a saying, you know, and well, I guess I should leave you to your silent mopey self, but I truly hope you at least think about and take the bag.”_

_Her voice was frantic and uncertain. Not scared. No. Not scared, frightened, or any other synonym. The gentle tone and soft words didn’t cease as the cadence increased. She must have held her hand out for it, waiting for it to reply, the bag in front of her._

Asset Compromised. Asset Compromised. Mission: unknown. Objective: unknown. Orders: unknown. Asset awaiting orders via upload. Asset-

_She tossed the bag a foot and three point three inches away from it. Then she waited. This stranger, offering her own supplies, to it, a broken and useless machine. But she waited._

__

__

_It wasn’t hard to determine she wanted it to have the bag, so it stretched out with its left foot to slide it closer. She exhaled, relaxed fully, and the smile even stronger in her voice. “You take care of yourself, you hear me? The world is full of horrible people, and, um, I think that maybe, despite or in spite of whatever you’ve been through, you deserve better. Everyone does. Have a better day, sir, and please, think about the shelter. They’d be more than happy to help.”_

_Sneakers walked away, dissolved back into the crowd from where she came, and the static electric white returned… but not quite there. Just a hair of reddish-brown, not unlike rust, but warmer, welcoming._

\- Objective 1: stop assailants aboard the helicarriers. Outcome: failure. Objective 2: kill man in blue-red-white uniform. Outcome: failure. Mission: designated – 

_The fog was lifting slowly. It knew that. And who knows, maybe the hot shower would help._

**Author's Note:**

> Woot! as promised, here's the second in the series. There really is gonna be no order to how or what I post. Some are isolated one-shots, others are longer and more involved. Still others might be little crack!fics.
> 
> Deal with it.
> 
> As always, please read and review. I live for reviews and would love to hear back from people. (still working on grammar edits, so bear with me in general; I lack a beta and tend to try to edit myself. As I find mistakes, I'll fix them)
> 
> Enjoy - why? 
> 
> Because I can


End file.
